


Ophelia: Humanity's Mistake

by diminishedmercury



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, Human everyone basically, Human!Allura, M/M, Multi, Pls bear with me on the ships, have a lot of world building planned for this stuff, human!coran, it'll take me a minute to build up to everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diminishedmercury/pseuds/diminishedmercury
Summary: Years have passed since he lost Shiro, since Pidge lost Matt, since Coran lost Allura. No one has seen them since that day the soldiers marched into their home and took them all away. Now, Keith is beginning to realize what may have become of his friends. Secrets in the government hidden in the deepest recesses of humanity will begin to unravel as he works to bring them home with only those few idiots that he trusts at his side. Presently, he is being placed in those same handcuffs as Shiro, feels their cool weight on his skin, and watches as Pidge, Lance, and Hunk are pulled out of the room in opposite directions as him. Now, on a planet far from humanity's fleet, Keith is tasked with a new objective: to survive.





	1. Chapter 1: Ophelia

The year is 3017 and humanity has expanded its reach out into the great skies of night, but at a terrible cost; Earth is no more. The home planet remains in tatters, torn apart and bled dry for the people that once called it home. Earth is now a quarantined zone, only ever visited by scientists and the highest ranking military personnel. Now, humanity is split amongst a single fleet of ships, the once numerous population reduced to simply tens of thousands rather the billions that had called themselves Earthlings. In total, there are only twelve ships, remained connected by airtight bridge ways to walk between the specialized ships. Most of the general population takes refuge among ships eleven and twelve, living with the filth and broken technologies of the fleet. Life is harsh on these ships, but the alternative is much worse: death. Restrictions have even been imposed upon couples aboard the fleet in relation to the amount of children one can create: two. 

In an attempt to curbside criminal activity and put a hand on the growing population, Prime Minister Jean-Jaques Fluer created an outpost to send convicted criminals and illegal children. It is a planet deemed unfitting for humanity, this being the reason that they remain on their fleet, and was meant to be a way to be rid of the undesirable. Still, humans are resourceful. Life is harsh on this planet, but not impossible.

Here, on Ophelia, many are tested to their absolute boundaries and often times even pushed past that. The only other option is to die, and being instilled with the instincts that they are, humans chose to do everything they could to avoid death. Created in 2580, the first batch of criminals and illegals were sent to die. Instead, Factions were created among the colonists, working together to survive the harsh environment they now must live in. In the beginning, there were numerous amounts of Factions, though they have condensed down into the main seven that still rule the planet in the present day.

To live on Ophelia is to live on a planet of beasts. The flora and fauna rule this planet's surface, and even it's underground tunnels. The water is poisonous if not properly filtered, having been contaminated by the plants and other creatures native to this planet. Carnivorous plants are common sights and the average size of an animal on Ophelia would be twice the size of the livestock many are accustomed to seeing from Earth on the fleet.

Even with all of the trials and tribulations, humans found a way to survive and adapt. And having figured this out about them, the human government now uses Ophelia as a means of entertainment, betting pools being created among the highest ranking officials and military leaders. However, the government does not remain impartial. In efforts to win their bets, congressmen will make supply drops to their favorite Factions, giving them weapons and food to use to win wars against other Factions. In addition, there is a promise. If one can become the leader of all seven Factions through the Provings (fights to the death between a Faction leader and challenger to take control of a Faction), they will be allowed to return to the fleet and live a wealthy life. There has never been a winner in the near five hundred years of Ophelia's existence.

Life is hard. Life is strange. But Keith? Keith is strong and he is odd. He may be what this Faction has been waiting for.


	2. Chapter 2: Fresh Meat

                                The cool metal felt heavy around his wrists, grounding him in that moment, the press of a boot print hard against his cheek. He didn't know who had ratted them out, but he did know that they were all on the ground, Pidge screaming as they smashed all of her hard work on the ground in front of her. They were all in cuffs now, Keith trying to move his arm, which probably wasn't his most brilliant plan to date, groaning loudly when the movement only heightened the pain shooting up into his shoulder from the hold the soldier had on his arms. They were bent in a  _very_ peculiar manner. One that allowed for optimal control over his lanky frame and just put worse pressure on his limbs if he so much as  _breathed_ the wrong way.

                                Suddenly, he felt his world shift, his body hauled up onto his knees as he looked at the scared expressions that filtered across the faces of his friends. Lance and Hunk almost seemed to be reaching for each other's hands before the loud CRACK! of a soldier's foot came down to stomp on their hands. He winced behind his bangs, sucking in a harsh hiss of air when he felt the loud slap of a baton across his shoulder blades. They weren't happy with him, but he didn't think _any_ government officials would be pleased to find the group that had been poking around at top secret files to find missing family. He saw Pidge spit blood in the face of the man that had just back handed her. He felt pride swell within his chest momentarily before they were all being lifted and pushed out the doors of their home.

                                "H-Hey, you can't just come in and—!" He didn't hear the rest of Lance's sentence, only heard the surge of air that left his body after what he assumed was an accompanied blow to his abdomen. They could, evidently, just come in and do whatever they wanted.

                                He didn't know why he had expected to be taken to the same place as his friends. That would be too much to hope for. They were all taken to separate ships, taken to different officials, pulled apart from one another right when they had been able to make headway on  _where_ their friends had been sent all those years ago (he was shocked to realize it had already been three years since the last time he had heard Shiro's voice). He sighed quietly, his body tense in regretful resignation. It felt  _wrong_ to be in those chains, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Sure, he could get a hold of one of the batons the soldiers manhandling him had strapped to their thighs, but there was only so much one person could do when the only place to run was  _further_ into the fleet of ships. There was nowhere to hide even if he could escape (—and he could, he mused).

        Defiance had always been a pretty look on Keith's face. Or that's what Lance liked to tease him about, on the occasion that he wouldn't get punched for saying these types of things. He didn't like the way that the General looked at him with a knowing smile, as if he had been waiting for an excuse to drag him into his office and bring down a whip across his back. The thought reminded him of the smarting bruise from where the baton had landed. Even so, he was distracted enough to miss the look that Sendak had in those gold eyes. "You and your friends have been  _quite_ the pain in the ass, you know that?" Huh. Not how he imagined a general to speak to him, but he could roll with it.

        "Doesn't seem that difficult to do, seeing how big it is—" The slap across his face was definitely worth the look of indignation on Sendak's face. 

        "Cute. I hope you can keep up that attitude on Ophelia," the word was foreign to Keith's ears, but he didn't want to give away anything to incriminate himself. Not that they didn't already know what he'd been up to. Breaking into the document vault hadn't exactly been  _easy,_ but it hadn't been _impossible_ with Pidge working the hacking angle from their home on ship twelve. The guards holding him up shifted uneasily at the mention of whatever this "Ophelia" was, but he wasn't surprised to be informed that it was decidedly  _not good._

        "Should I be scared?"

        The laugh he received was the only indication he got that maybe, just maybe, he  _should_ be afraid (— he couldn't bring himself to care. He was more afraid of having gone his whole life without finding out what had happened to Shiro). Sendak didn't bother saying anything else directed at himself, only scribbled what looked to be his own name ( _Keith Kogane_ stared at him in pretty cursive from across the room) on a page with several other names jotted down (he could only get a glimpse of  _Lance McClain_ and  _Hunk_ before he was being bodily hauled towards ship three). He knew the way they were taking him; down to the escape pods. Ship three was the only ship on the fleet that actually  _had_ drop pods and the like. It was the end of the line for him, he thought. Maybe they would shell him out to space and let him starve. Maybe they would stuff him into a cryo-pod and he'd wake up in a cell ten-thousand years later. Maybe they'd put him in a fault pod and let it blow him up.

        A knife being shoved into his hands (the one he'd left at his home) broke him from his reverie, staring at the guard who had handed it to him in general confusion. "You'll need it," he supposed that he  _would._ It never hurt to have before. "I'm sorry." It seemed that even stuffing him into a pod to end his life could bring out compassion in even the soldiers that didn't have to worry about being shoved into a pod to die. "Find a Faction or die." That was the last thing he heard before he was being injected with  _something_ and found himself blacking out. Great. This was just how he wanted his day to go.

* * *

        He woke up to the impact of the pod against solid ground, jostling him and splitting his lip open on the wall in the process. Grunting with the effort it took to move his body (that drug hadn't fully been washed from his system yet, so it would seem), he brought his hand up to un-clip the flimsy seat belt that had held him upright in the cramped drop pod. He regretted that choice almost immediately when he fell face first into the wall opposite of him, groaning at the bruises that would undoubtedly start to form. Squinting into the darkness with what little light trickled in from the outside, he noticed a small supply pack on the ground next to the knife the guard had given to him. How thoughtful of him.

        The sharp contrast between  _artificial_ and  _natural_ air hit like a ton of bricks as he opened up the top hatch of the ship he'd crash landed in, back strapped around his waist. That was... annoying. Taking a deep breath of the warm air, he pulled himself up, the edge of the opening catching on his stomach and adding to the litter of bruises he'd surely be finding the next morning.

        He wasn't ready for this. Nothing could have prepared him for this. It was like a scene straight from a book. His eyes roamed the vast forest that surrounded him, trees ( _real_ trees!) taller than any ceiling he'd ever seen in his life, plants standing as tall as he was wide, water flowing down a cliff that was even taller than the tallest of trees. He'd seen plants, sure, but those were in controlled habitats on a space cruiser. This was nature. Nature that he'd never thought he would see in his life. Nature that he'd planned to go see with Shiro when he was big enough. He didn't let that thought falter his sure footstep forward, walking towards the water that pooled in a small creek. His throat suddenly felt like it had a lump in it bigger than his fist, staring at the cool, clear liquid. God, he was so thirsty.

        He almost stuck a hand in it, before he stopped himself with a sudden thought. This wasn't the fleet. He didn't know what the Hell the plant life was around him, or that this even  _was_ water. He'd be better off rummaging through the pack on his hip than needlessly risking his life to take a drink of liquid of an unknown substance. Probably for the better anyways.

        He was flipping open the pouch when he heard a small  _snap!_ resonant throughout the clearing. His knife was out in an instant, hand sure in it's grip, as he prepared himself for the worst. He could survive this. He could live. He could do it, whatever this strange "Ophelia" was. And once he found his way off of this planet, he would find Pidge, and Lance, and Hunk, and Allura, and Matt, and  _Shiro_ and there would be no force on this God damned  _planet_ that could stop that. He promised himself that. He just had to survive for now. And survival included taking out any threat that came his way.

        What Keith had  _not_ been expecting was the silhouette of an old friend coming out of the forest and calling out his name in a voice he hadn't heard for three years. "Keith?"


	3. Chapter 3: Old Friend

        His hands shook violently around the grip he had on his blade. What a cruel joke to play on him now. But the face of his friend did not disappear, instead broke out into that goofy grin he'd always loved, and ran over with a wave of his lanky arm. "Keith! Is that really you?" That should be what  _he_ was asking, his bottom lip caught on his teeth before he could remember the blood spilling from it. He winced, before he flung his arm out, the one holding the knife, to stop whoever the Hell this was from touching him.

        "Who are you?" He looked like his friend. Looked like his friend with a grown up's face. But that was impossible. This all was impossible. He could be hallucinating. He didn't know what that guard had injected him with. A frown tugged at the stranger's lip (he had to remind himself that this  _was_ a stranger). "Who  _are_ you?" He demanded again, trying his best to look as intimidating as he could at 5'6".

        "Keith, it's me!" He shook his head again, demanding expansion without a word. "Matt. Keith, it's Matt Holt." He felt his eyes watering, shaking his head again. Matt was  _gone._ But then again, he supposed that now  _he_ was gone too. He couldn't ignore the irony in that, peering more closely at Matt's face (if this really was Matt). The same goofy grin, same brown eyes, warmth radiated from his posture. But he was taller, bulkier, had a scar running down his cheek that he hadn't had three years ago. This could be Matt, but Keith doubted that this was the same Matt from three years ago. "I, uh, I haven't seen you in a while, Keith Kat." He hated that nickname, hated the way Matt had  _always_ teased him with it, and all in the same moment that he hated it, he loved it. He had dreamed of nights when he'd hear it again. When he'd be bad with his family  _whole_ again. Of when he would have Shiro back.

        Putting away the knife he'd yet to drop, he let his shoulders relax, let a single tear fall down his cheek and managed a small smile for the other man's sake. "It's been a while, Glasses." Matt had hated that name too, once upon a time, but Keith could recognize the flicker of joy behind guarded amber eyes. Then, he felt arms lifting him off the ground, a scowl pulling itself across his features as he pulled and struggled to get away from the dork he called his friend. "H-Hey! Put me down! Matt!"

        "You're gonna just love the Faction, Keith! It's not nearly as bad as the rest of them, I promise you!" What the Hell was he talking about? He didn't mind though, so long as he didn't disappear again. His feet touched the ground all too suddenly and Matt was moving too quickly, pulling a pole out of  _God knows where._ They, evidently, weren't alone in this forest. Keith could only pray (to a God he didn't really believe in) that he wasn't about to dragged into a turf-war.

        "You've found a pretty one, haven't you, Voltron?" He didn't like the voice on this one, his grip steady on his knife as he watched a person emerge from the dark brush of the canopy surrounding them. "You  _do_ know that we're gonna take him from ya?" Matt's teeth were bared at that sentence and a sickly shiver ran down Keith's spine. He really didn't like this man, whoever he was.

        "He's already claimed, Galra. Back off." Claimed? Now what was  _this_ bullshit? A frown tugged at the corners of his lips.

        "He's not if you're dead. And if he dies too, that just means we can raid his supplies. It's not really a losing situation for  _us."_ Us. Meaning this man wasn't alone. Purple irises flicked around the greenery, narrowing in suspicion. He couldn't see anyone else, but that only meant he could have snipers or God knows what else trained on their heads. He shifted his weight to his dominant leg, just a few pounds, to ease the pressure off of the bruises he could already feel forming along his body from the impact of his crash landing. This wouldn't be a pretty fight, but so long as none of these assholes had guns, Keith was confident in his ability to come out the winner.

        "Well. Since you insist!" With that, Matt was a blinding blur, light on his feet as he slammed the metal pole into the armored shoulder of the Galran (was that what Matt had called him?) man. His feet were moving on autopilot. This was familiar. He knew how this worked. As unfamiliar and off-putting as this planet was, the smooth movements of combat came easily to Keith, using his small body to his advantage. He heard his own voice distantly, calling out warnings and advice to Matt, but beyond that, the only thing that he could hear was the blood pumping through his body as he rushed one of the archers that had revealed himself with a wayward arrow. It was easy to pick them off once he figured out their positioning, a basic circle around the enemies. And with Matt taking care of the big guy, it just made life  _so_ much easier to deal with. Especially when one of the archers he'd rushed at managed to land a harsh elbow to his gut, his bruised body screaming its protest. He didn't think anything was ruptured, but it was hard to tell without being able to stop and actually asses the damage. He would live though. He remembered taking beatings worse than this before he'd found himself dragged into a family he never wanted, but always needed (—it was funny, really, how Shiro always knew what he needed even before he himself did). He was wiping blood from his mouth (again) when he heard Matt call out for him again. Pushing back through the tall leaves of plants, he was relieved to see Matt standing triumphant over the mystery man.

        "Is this a...  _common_ occurrence?" He asked in dry humor, watching as Matt's face turned sheepish.

        "Just every time someone gets dropped down," Interesting. "But now! Let's head back to the Faction, for real. There's someone there that might want to see you." The look in Matt's eyes was more telling than he felt he should really be able to read. "And I'll explain to you what's going on, because  _wow,_ you've just gotten sent on all-expense-paid vacation to Hell, courtesy of one fleet government!" He rolled his eyes as he shook his eye from his eyes, walking to be at the idiot's side. He paused for a moment, not quite sure on what he was waiting on. Matt rose a brow, waiting on something from him.

        His arms pulled Matt close before he could stop himself, pulling him in close and burying his face in his clothed shoulder. The breath he sucked into his chest was shaky at best, his voice not nearly as strong as he normally liked it to sound. "I missed you," He didn't look up at the other's face; he didn't want to see confusion, or joy, or softness, or anything else. He just needed this one moment. To remind himself that he wasn't dead. To remind himself that Allura wasn't dead. To remind himself that none of them were dead. To keep himself as close as possible for the briefest of moments so he could find the strength to pull himself back together to survive long enough to get off this damned planet and find his friends. Find his family.

        Matt's hand threaded through his hair and held him close in return. "I've missed you too." That was all he needed to hear. Pushing away and steadying himself, he looked back up when he felt he could look into honeyed eyes and not cry. "Let's head home." He hadn't heard those words in nearly three years from Matt's voice and  _God_ how he had missed it. He was going home. Home with his family.

        "Let's go home," He easily agreed as he followed the other into the deep recesses of the forest making up the world they now lived in.


	4. Chapter Four: Voltron's Faction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To any of you leaving comments and kudos: thank you so much!   
> Ya'll are the reason I have motivation to keep writing!  
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and just know that I'm working on each section as quickly and efficiently as I can without a beta-reader!

        Regardless of what Keith had been expecting from the Faction, he hadn't been prepared to be dragged through underground tunnels with nothing more than torches lining the walls for light. His mind drifted to what he'd learned from Matt, finding out that Ophelia was essentially a sandbox for the government to play with their "criminals." Turns out that a majority of the population on Ophelia had only been sent here by the unfortunate accident of birth. He'd never really thought about what happened to the kids that were thirds before now, assuming they were placed in the cryogenics lab. He didn't like the thought of actual  _babies_ be loaded into pods and dropped to a planet with plants that ate _other plants,_ but Matt had looked too forlorn for there to be another explanation. And, apparently, the politics of Ophelia was a complicated matter, being left up to Faction leaders and their second and thirds to take care of. Matt, apparently, was the second in charge of the Voltron Faction.

        "Back up a second, Matt— What do you mean that I was claimed?" It had been bothering him since they'd left that clearing.

        "Ooooh, right, you don't like— Well, it's not like I wouldn't have given you a choice or anything, though I guess I didn't really want to since we're friends- Claims! Right, claims! When a new pod is dropped, the first Faction to reach that pod has a claim to that person. Typically, that person is brought into whatever Faction finds them first." Which made sense, he supposed, to keep up population in separate Factions. And why were there so  _many_ Factions at that? Seven! There were seven of them! It was totally unnecessary in Keith's eyes. "There were actually quite a few pod drops today..." The frown tugging at Matt's lips grew a pit in Keith's stomach. "Did-" He didn't want to hear this question. He knew he didn't, but he looked up at Matt through dark bangs anyways. "Did Katie... Did anything happen to the rest of you?"

        He swallowed around the stone caught in his throat. "I don't know.  They separated us." Matt froze.

        "Oh no—" And with that, his wrist was caught in a tight grip and he was rushed even faster to what he assumed was the leader's room. Or throne. Or whatever one wanted to call it, Keith just knew that there was a very large sense of anxiety flooding through his body. He hadn't thought about it before Matt started asking questions, but it was highly likely that Pidge, Lance, and Hunk had been shipped off to this very planet with him. But they wouldn't have Matt. They wouldn't have anyone they knew to help them. They would be claimed by a faceless Faction and he would never see them again. He shook his head free of the thoughts as Matt pulled him into the large palace-like room, stopping and ordering him to "stay put!" before he was disappearing behind a curtain in the back that presumably housed the leader.

        Feet tapped lightly across the stone floors, Matt's face popping back out in an instant, before another familiar face peered out from behind him. "Allura?" He didn't realize he'd breathed the name until she was smiling widely and beckoning him to follow them into the room, presumably for privacy.

        His assumption was correct, being pulled into a tight hug the moment his feet were in the doorway, Matt whisking the curtains closed behind him. He'd forgotten how strong Allura's arms were, he mused while he slipped his own around her waist and held her there for a moment. He was finding his family, one by one, but now he'd have to find the ones that  _hadn't_ been lost as well. "Hey," he breathed out quietly before they parted from each other, the look on Allura's face telling him everything he needed to know. "Where's Shiro?" Her face fell (—No, no no, no— Shiro was fine, he was  _fine_. They were  _not_ going to tell him that Shiro was dead. He was okay, he was okay, he was—) and there was a distinct moment where panic flooded his entire body, his breath catching around an invisible boulder placed in his throat.

        "Shiro... is not here. He's not apart of this Faction," His mind was racing. What the Hell were they trying to tell him? "He's—"

        "He's Galra, Keith. Like those guys we saw at the crash pod." His world felt like it had snapped out from under him. Shiro was here. Shiro was breathing the same air as him. Shiro was on the  _same fucking planet_ as him. "That's why the Galra don't really like us. There's not really... inter-Faction trades? No one changes Factions once they've joined one." Oh no- Oh no, no, no, he was  _not_ going to be separated from him by stupid fucking laws he didn't know existed until today. Matt seemed to read that look on his face as he continued hastily, "But that's not to say that it's impossible! It's just... bloody."

        "Everything is settled in combat here, Keith," Allura's voice would have been soothing any other time, but nothing was going to douse the flames that had been lit within his veins the moment they'd told him that Shiro was  _here._

"How? How do I do it?" Another stupid frown. He was getting particularly tired of seeing that.

        "Keith, we've been planning on how to do that for two years. You are not going to rush us into any rash actions. I _know_ that you miss him, but rushing in and attempting to do the near-impossible without even a basic grasp of the world around you will  _not_ be the way we succeed." He breathed out through his nose in a hiss, trying to will down his anger. She was right, as she always was, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Seeing him calm down must have pleased her, as she was now herding him over to a table in the corner of her room (office?) that was stacked with some foods. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until his stomach was rumbling in annoyance at the sight in front of him; he felt like he could have kissed either one of them in that moment as he quickly swiped a roll into his hand and shoved some of the bread into his mouth. "Well... it's good to know you still have an appetite." Allura's nose was scrunched up in that way that meant she was mildly grossed out by the sight in front of her, watching her old friend scarf down what he could.

        Soon enough, another guard (Faction member? what did they call each other?) was poking her head into the room with a rather sheepish expression. "We, ah, managed to find one of the four pods!" Keith's ears perked up a bit at that.

        "And why do you sound like you've just walked in on us having an orgy?"

        "Matt!" He ignored both Keith and Allura and just smiled at the girl.

        "Um... Shiro from the Galran Faction was there first." Someone should just shoot him, honestly. Someone really should with how often that the lady fate enjoyed slapping him across the face and leaving his cheeks red and smarting. If he had been in  _that_ pod, he would have seen Shiro. He couldn't believe it. He silently mused that if it was Lance in that pod, he might actually just die on the spot.  _God,_ how he wished that they were all just back home on the fleet in their tiny compartment split between eight people.


	5. Chapter Five: Of First Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!  
> And I'm also thirsty for them, so I beg of you,,, please give me some nice comments,,

        There were some days that were easier than others; there were some nights that were easier than others. Rolling over on the cold stone of the "bed" he'd been given, he pulled the ratty, hole filled blanket up to his chin. The scratch of the material against his bare legs and chest weren't unwelcome after having spent years without so much as a sheet to cover himself with at night. He'd usually just curl up in Shiro's side to sleep, letting the blankets be divided up among the younger members of their family of sorts. After Shiro had been taken away, he'd taken to sleeping with Pidge, her body warm against his side and her tears wet on his shoulder; they had taken comfort in each other where they couldn't in the others. He didn't have any of that now. He supposed that he  _could,_ if he asked Matt or Allura, but he didn't want to impose more than he already had. It was clear that supplies were in high demand and he was now taking up a little more than they'd had to ration out before. Her curled in on himself, letting his forehead rest against his knees. It didn't feel even close to having a warm body in the bed next to him.

        He tossed and turned for a few more hours, trying and failing to capture some semblance of sleep, before the exhaustion he'd felt in his bones finally pulled him into a restless slumber. He had dreams filled with rice and corn bread, dreams filled with family, dreams filled with warm hands on his hips, dreams of lips against his jawline. When he woke up the next day, he was not surprised to realize that he didn't have anything from his dreams. 

        He squinted against the darkness he found surrounding his body, kicking the scratchy blanket off of his tired form, and let his feet touch the cool stone of the flooring. He almost flinched at the sharp contrast, but plowed through it, reaching blindly for his pants he'd thrown off the night before. Once he was dressed (—or at least  _mostly_ dressed, he didn't bother with his jacket—), he padded out of the room and into one of the tunnels that kept the Faction connected. He was grateful that he had a decent enough memory, following the path Matt had lead him down the day before. He had worked up an appetite in the night and was eager to find something to sate his need for food.

        "You're the new recruit, aren't you?" He nearly slammed his fist into the soft belly of a rather built woman, only stopped by her quick reflexives.

        "Shit!" He hissed out quietly, slowing his heart rate back down, "What do you want?"

        She looked amused. Far more amused than Keith thought she should have, but then again, he had no idea who she was. His eyes traveled down her rather intimidating build, seeing tightly corded muscle in her arms and her legs built for power. She had been here for a while, if the look in her amber eyes was anything to go by. "Nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure you weren't getting lost or anything like that." She let go of his wrist now (he hadn't even realized she was still holding on to it). She was beautiful in her own way, Keith could admit that, with her dark short cut hair and her warm brown skin. She was someone that he could see himself growing to like, if he'd allow himself to open up. He didn't want to.

        "Thanks... I guess," He mumbled quietly. "Who  _are_ you, though?" He almost winced at his own tone; he could hear Shiro in his head telling him to not be so rude.

        "My name is Shay!" Huh. That still didn't explain  _who_ she was, but at least he had a name.

        "Keith."

        Her face told him that she had already known that. He blamed Matt and his big mouth. "Allura wants to see you," She hummed softly (— Keith found himself caught off guard at the kind look on her face; it hurt, it hurt, it hurt; it looked too much like Shiro's), turnin him around and pushing him in the opposite direction than the one he'd been heading in. "Tell her 'hello' for me, while you're in there." He would be doing no such thing, he decided, as he let his feet take him back to the room he'd met Allura in the night before.

* * *

        "Shay says hi," was the first thing out of his mouth and he wanted to punch himself for it as soon as he registered the amused look on Allura's face.

        "She's very sweet," He wanted to wipe the knowing look off of her features, but was easily placated when Allura handed him a hot meal. "Now! I wanted to discuss with you some matters I... neglected to inform you of." He'd been whisked away as soon as he'd heard about Shiro finding one of the pods (and he had  _not_ appreciated that). He only gave a look to continue as he shoveled some of the food into his mouth to chew. It was awful, whatever it was, a green goo with no real taste but a definitive texture, but at least it eased the ache low in his stomach. "As you are already aware of, Shiro is not a member of this Faction. He was picked up by the Galra the day that we were all dropped here," He already knew all of this, but he didn't interrupt her. She'd get to the point eventually. "There are seven Factions, each with a unique name and identifier. We are Voltron; our marking is the lion." She took a breath for a pause, before continuing. "In order for anyone to  _leave_ the planet, one must become the leader of all seven Factions; a feat that has never been accomplished in the years of this colonization's existence." He was starting to connect the dots.

        "That means fighting each leader, yes?"

        "Precisely! One person must fight each leader of each faction," That didn't seem too bad, "To the death." He took it back. It was bad. It was really bad. It was really, really, really bad. "I am the  _current_ leader of the Voltron Faction. It was... no easy task to get to where I am, today."

        "Is this it? This is your plan to get Shiro out of Galran control? To take over their Faction?" She nodded with a pained expression. They would have to kill the leader to get to Shiro, and as much of a headache as that sounded, Keith would do  _anything_ to be at Shiro's side again. He didn't care who he had to kill to do it. "Alright. Then who are we up against?"

        "You are taking this... extraordinarily well, considering I've just told you I've killed a man, Keith."

        Matt was walking into the room at the moment, and Keith almost didn't want to hear what he had to say, "That's because our little Keith Kat would do a lot of very naughty things to get Shiro to do naughty things with him." Keith squawked at the implication, face heating up instantly as Allura stared at the laughing menace that was Matthew Holt. "Get it? Because Keith wants to bang—"

        "Okay, Matt, shut the Hell up!" He hissed. He could feel the tips of his ears brighten even further.

        "Anyways, the point of telling you this is that we're gonna cheat and it'll be great," Matt was laughing. Keith wasn't certain he'd heard that correctly.

        "We're going to... cheat? Cheat during a battle to the death?"

        "Mhmmmm. It'll be hilarious." Right. Hilarious. That was just the word that Keith would use to describe it. "And, you'll be helping us cheat! Because if you can keep Shiro busy for a while, doesn't matter if it's for naughty time or not, then Lotor can't use  _Shiro_ to cheat and we'll be in the clear to cheat!" He took a sip of his drink. He wished it was alcohol.

        As if she'd read his mind, Allura quietly placed a bottle in front of him after having poured herself a glass. Raising a brow, he took a sniff of what was in it and promptly felt a head rush. That was... some strong stuff. "It's made from one of the most dangerous plants found on Ophelia. Quite expensive. But, I figured if we're all going to be sitting around talking about how to murder a man for his kingdom, we should at least be able to do it while we're all drunk." He didn't need a second invitation, pouring an amount (who knows how much) into his cup and taking a large pull from it. He felt an arm slide down his chest to hold one of his hands, and another hug his head, tangling their hand in his hair. Allura's hair fell over his shoulder's as she leaned her cheek against the top of his head. "We'll have him home, yet, and then we'll find the others," She whispered quietly, almost wistfully, as she held Keith like that for a long moment. He remained quiet in her hold, only squeezing her hand in return. She needed this.  _He_ needed this. Reassurance was all too addicting a drug after all.


	6. Chapter Six: On The Solstice

        At night, it's harder to pretend that Shiro is just within arm's reach. The ache in his chest blooms prettily under the fire's glow in his room and he can't hide the way his eyes are reddened from the tears he'd been attempting to hold back. It's harder to ignore the painfully vacant half of the bed in the same way that it's harder to ignore the distinct lack of warmth he'd grown used to sleeping next to. The second night is almost worse than the first. He just wants this nightmare to be over, he thinks to himself, as he feels himself blearily drifting in between awareness and unconsciousness. 

        And yet, as hard as it is to pretend while he lay awake at night, it's  _easy_ to pretend when he's fallen asleep. His mind almost tricks himself into believing that Shiro has his arms around his waist, almost makes him shuffle closer to that imagined warmth. He can feel the curve of Shiro's jaw underneath his hand as he cups his cheek tenderly. It's painful in the most comforting of ways to see his eyes flutter open, as steely grey as the day he'd been taken away, and he thinks that he can live with this so long as it lasts forever. He pretends that Shiro is actually in the bed next to him, that he can actually touch him, and he watches as his own hand drags down the muscles of his friend's arm, watches as it settles at his hip, watches as Shiro practically preens at the gentle touches. He's exactly the same as Keith remembers him; dark haired, clean shaven,  _beautiful._ He hates the way the word clings to his mind, but he can't make it go away. He misses him too much and loves him too much and everything is suddenly too much, too much, too much and all at the same time it is  _not e n o u g h._

        Shiro's arm moves to circle around his waist and pull him close. He's nose to chest now with his bare skin. He tries to tell Shiro not to, but that only seems to make him laugh, deep rumbles in his chest that send a flutter through Keith's system. He wants so badly to look up and kiss him, wants so badly to feel his breath on his skin to remind himself that this is real, but he does none of these things and simply allows himself to rest in the comforting hold.

        He wakes up pointedly cold and drenched in his own tears not long afterwards. He is glad that Matt doesn't say anything when he walks into the room and tells him that they're ready to begin final debates on the plan they'd been discussing the night before.

* * *

        As it would turn out, Voltron was not without its allies. It was unorthodox, apparently, to form alliances with other Factions, but Allura didn't care much for tradition. She was only there to make ensure the safety of her Faction by any means necessary. He was just venturing into the meeting room as Allura was making her entrance. She commanded respect, took control of the small crowd that was gathered together for the same purpose, and allowed everyone to take their seats at the round table. Keith sat to her left, while Matt took her right. Shay was a few seats down and she smiled broadly and waved when she caught him looking.

        "As many of you know, Voltron has had its sights set on Galra for a while now," leaders around the table murmured, apparently taking a hint as to what direction this meeting would be taking. "And now is the proper time to strike. Perhaps not immediately, but the day draws nearer that I wish to challenge the Galran leader," more muttering, some incredulous looks, "I would like to discuss the intended plan that my advisers and I have devised."

        "If I may speak?" It was an older woman, thin and tall, with graying hair, a necklace with four golden rings on it that matched the one Allura wore. Allura addressed her as Ryner to allow her to speak. "We will support you, as the Olkari Faction has stated before, but I have... reservations about directly challenging Sendak," There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room.

        "Are these in relation to the Champion he possesses?" Ryner nodded, looking grave at the mention of said title. "We have taken into account the level of involvement that the Champion has taken in previous Provings. We believe we have the necessary resources to remove him from interfering with the actual combat." It all sounded so cold and calculating. It made Keith's skin itch to listen to Allura speak of Shiro in that way. He knew that she was only keeping up pretenses for the sake of her coalition, but there was still a pit that formed at the base of his stomach. The meeting continued on in full swing, other leaders asking questions (as it would turn out, Shay was the second in command of her own Faction; The Balmerans) and Allura swiftly curbing any protests to her intentions.

        Matt stood up when it was his turn to speak, pulling out a few maps from the case he'd brought with him to the meeting. He was grinning, as per usual, and excitedly began to explain the plan he'd taken part in creating, "Luckily enough, we  _do_ have a mole within the Galran Faction," Thace was his name, Keith recalled, "and they were able to provide us with a detailed blue print of the Proving ring used by the Galra. Sendak has grown lax. He believes he can just throw in the Champion as his proxy for every fight. And, normally, that might be true, but we've come up with a way to remove him from the picture. If he cannot use the Champion as his proxy, after naming him, he will be forced to fight himself." There was a general murmur of acceptance around the table. "Keith here," All eyes were on him now, "will be acting as our bait of sorts. He will be appointed as Allura's proxy. However! Keith won't be the one to fight Sendak. That will still be Allura's job. But by being appointed proxy, he will have a chance to privately meet with  _Sendak's_ proxy before the match. By doing so, he'll have a chance to eliminate the Champion from the equation.

        "While that is happening, Allura and Sendak will then be required to face each other in the duel. While Sendak does possess more raw power than Allura, he is arrogant and out of practice. Allura will have a few key advantages, but with these blueprints, we've figured out the best way for her to face him." Matt pointed to a small alcove in the arena wall, a wild grin on his lips. "Allura will make Sendak feel that he cannot possibly lose. She will taunt him and press him, but she won't make any rash moves against him. It will be easy to lure Sendak over to this alcove, where Allura is able to hide from view, and allow our mole to provide Allura with a distraction. Once that distraction takes place, Allura will be set up with a sure kill. It is up to her to follow through." It was so unbelievably simple, but it all made sense. It also made sense as to why they'd held off on going through with this plan before hand. Keith was a new face, the Galra would have no clue that he had a connection to Shiro. They would not be expecting him to be able to so thoroughly distract Shiro (and he'd yet to figure out how he was going to  _do_ that, but he would get to that). There would be no suspicion surrounding Keith like there would have been if Matt was appointed as Allura's proxy. There would also be no  _killing_ taking place beyond Sendak (he shuddered at the thought of killing Shiro to "distract" him). The plan was simple, but it was solid.

        Ryner was watching with intent eyes, her brows scrunched together, before she let out a definitive sound. "I suppose this means that we will be expected to provide weapons?"

        "You know us so well," Matt hummed, smiling widely as Ryner shook her head in exasperation.

        "And Balmera will provide transport!" Shay looked eager to join in on the plan, to help in whatever way that she could.

        "There is still one question," Ryner interrupted Shay, " _When_ will this plan take place?" Everyone was looking at Allura again, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips.

        "On the solstice. One week."


End file.
